


This

by becausetheyrehappythisway



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Because They Deserve To Be Happy, F/F, but no covid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:01:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26226826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/becausetheyrehappythisway/pseuds/becausetheyrehappythisway
Summary: A short Clexa fic based on This by Darius Rucker because I was bored and felt like writing something.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	This

**August 31, 2020**

**Twenty Eight Years Old**

Kissing her daughter’s head, she carefully places her in the dark wood crib before tucking the swaddle tighter, kissing her cheek again, and creeping out of the room as quietly as possible. Clarke’s sitting on the couch in the living room, the pre-game commercials playing on the television screen. Her blonde hair is loosely placed into a braid that’s thrown over her shoulder. It shifts slightly when Lexa throws her arms around it with a sigh as she collapses into the seat next to her wife.

“Is Alana asleep?” Clarke asks, placing her head on Lexa’s shoulder. Lexa places her lips against her hair with a nod.

“Finally.”

Clarke chuckles. Alana has been sick with a cold for the past week and has gotten more and more fussy each night. Tonight she managed to fall asleep before midnight, which Lexa and Clarke have come to call a win.

 _A baby girl_ , Lexa thinks, _and her mama laughing in my arms. It doesn’t get better than this._

She clicks the captions on when the rain outside hitting the roof gets too loud; she doesn’t dare turn it up to drown out the sound of water against roof shingles.

Her life isn’t exactly what she wanted it to be, but it is exactly what she needs it to be.

Anything could have changed her life at any point. If she hadn’t been running late to work the day she proposed to Clarke. Or if she had asked for a kitten when she was seven instead of a puppy (she didn’t get either, but she had to try). Anything. And it scares her everyday of her life.

**May 20, 2000**

**Seven Years Old**

The car lurches to a stop, throwing her into her seatbelt. She whines at the feeling, rubbing the spot the seatbelt pressed against when her back hits the back rest again.

“Sorry, Lex,” her sister, Anya, says from the driver’s seat. “I only just got my license, and this guy stopped right in front of me.”

“It’s okay, An,” Lexa assures her. “Mom does it at least ten times a day.” Something passes through her mind. “Hey, can you pick me up from school everyday?” She kicks her feet as she bounces in her booster seat softly. “You don’t text daddy with your phone at every stoplight.”

Anya chuckles as the car starts moving forward again when the light turns green. “Mom really does like her flip phone, doesn’t she?”

Lexa hums, nodding her head widely, her dark braids smacking her shoulders and cheeks. “So, can you pick me up everyday?”

“Depends on how much homework I have, kid. I’ll try and do it as often as possible, okay?”

“Okay.” She’s perfectly content with the answer. At sixteen, Anya can never do anything because of all of the homework her school gives her, so when she says she’ll try as hard as she can to do something, she really means it.

**May 2, 2003**

**Ten Years Old**

_Summer camp_ , Lexa thinks bitterly. She shakes her head again. “I’m not going.”

Her mother sighs, throwing the pamphlet for a one month summer camp on the coffee table in front of them, rubbing her temples. She’s been trying to get Lexa to agree to go when school lets out later this month, but she’s been refusing every time.

“What’s the reason this time?”

“The camp is for little kids.”

“It’s for kids aged nine to eleven.”

“ _Exactly_. I’ll be eleven by the time I come back home, and I’ll be the oldest kid there. I’m not going, mom.”

“Will you go next year to the older one?”

“Will Anya be there?”

“Anya is in college.”

“Then no.”

Anya and Lexa have always been close. When Anya went to high school, leaving before Lexa did for elementary school, they spent every night in one of their rooms. One night Lexa would sleep in Anya’s room, the next they switched. They’ve always been attached at the hip. Ever since Anya started going to Yale (two states away!), Lexa hasn’t agreed to do anything without her. She just can’t bear the thought of having fun without her big sister there to watch her.

“Fine. I’m making your father do it next year.”

**December 31, 2014**

**Twenty Two Years Old**

Downing the last of her whiskey, she stands up before slamming the glass back down on the bar. She tosses a few dollars next to the empty glass as a tip before locking her eyes on the pink-haired girl across the room. They nod to each other before making their way to the middle, grinding on one another on the dance floor.

Lexa’s hands are on the girls hips, rocking her backside against the front of her jeans, as she leans into whisper in the girl’s ear. “Wanna get out of here?”

“But the countdown,” comes the breathy reply.

Lexa chuckles, biting down on the girl’s earlobe. “It’s just another new year. You can watch it next year. Same exact thing.”

The girl seems to take it as a good reason, because suddenly she’s off Lexa’s front, grabbing her hand and pulling her in the direction of the double doors at the front.

**April 15, 2015**

**Twenty Two Years Old**

Another one walks out of the door to Lexa’s small, one-bed one-bath apartment. Fourth, or was it fifth?, girlfriend in as many months gone. _Not stable enough_ , this one had decided on as an excuse. She knew she was just a bad girlfriend.

First had been Addy, who had left because ‘you’re not what I need’.

Next had been Madeline. She had lasted a month. She was the longest one. Madeline left because it was her and not Lexa.

Third was Jackie. Jackie cheated. She’s the only one Lexa broke up with first. At least the others thought to tell her outright--almost--instead of resorting to others. They were together for three and a half weeks.

This one, Marie, maybe, left after three days because she wasn’t stable enough for her. Lexa gets it, really. Maybe-Marie came from a well-known family. Dating a girl that came from a middle-class family and went to Berkeley was going too low for her status.

**September 30, 2009**

**Seventeen Years Old**

She sighs, throwing the half-finished application to Harvard into the waste basket beneath her desk. She doesn’t have all the credits needed to get in, and she won’t have them by the time she graduates. No Harvard in her future.

It’s alright, she supposes. She won’t be able to go to her dream school, but she has enough credits to apply to Yale, where Anya went. They aren’t as close anymore, but going to school at the same university her older sister did is still pretty cool.

Sighing, she pulls the blank application from the folder her guidance counselor had given her earlier this morning. _Alexandria Woods_ , she writes, effectively starting to fill out her application to Yale.

**January 30, 2005**

**Twelve Years Old**

First test of 2005, and she’s going to fail. She hadn’t thought she needed to study over winter break because she was _sure_ she’d remember the formula for the area of a triangle. Looking at the test in front of her now, she realizes how wrong she was.

She uses the regular area formula, splits the total in half--you do that, right?--before turning the paper in.

She gets it back a week later. One missed question because she mixed up her negative and positive numbers. It hangs on her fridge for a month.

**October 19, 2009**

**Seventeen Years Old**

Tears fill Lexa’s eyes as Costia’s words mix together somewhere between her first love’s lips and her ears. She’s leaving her. For good this time. No more second chances.

“I can do better.”

Those are the words that break her. _Better_. Lexa isn’t good enough for the school nerd. What is she supposed to do now? She risked everything to come out as gay to the school and date Costia in her sophmore year. And Costia decides to repay her by breaking up with her a year later in the school courtyard full of other students.

“Then do better,” she manages to sneer from under her tears, turning on her heel and stomping away from the girl she was sure she would--if they legalize it--marry someday. Now she knows that dream will never come true.

**January 12, 2010**

**Seventeen Years Old**

_We regret to inform you_ \--

She stops reading. Yale declined her. Rejected her. She couldn’t get into Harvard. Now Yale. She’ll be stuck going to the local college that _has_ to accept anyone that applies. Her friends will all go to Brown or Prinston, and she’ll be in her hometown listening to the teacher she had for biology last year that went to work at the local college before the new school year talk about some boring science stuff.

She groans, pulling another college letter from the stack of mail. _Berkeley_ . Maybe, _maybe_ , they’ll take her. She doesn’t even believe herself until her eyes drop down to read:

_Congratulations! I am delighted to offer you admission to the University of California, Berkeley for fall 2010._

She does her happy dance for the first time since Costia broke up with her that night when she calls Anya to tell her.

**July 15, 2002**

**Ten Years Old**

She _can’t_ go all the way to Yale. it’s 172.3 miles from her. That’s too far, in Lexa’s opinion.

“I’ll be back every few months,” Anya argues.

Lexa’s eyes are filling with tears as she watches Anya throw the last t-shirt from her dresser into a trash bag for easy travel. She holds out her hands. “Let me have it.” The words are small, but Anya throws the shirt at her with a sad smile. “Please don’t go.”

“I have to, kid,” Anya sighs, standing back up, tying the bag closed. “I’ll be back before you know it. Did you know you’re gonna be in high school when I leave Yale?”

Lexa nods. “I’ve rechecked my math every night. Only four years.”

“Exactly. I love you, kid. You know that, right?” Another nod. “Good. Now, what do you say about helping dad build my desk when we get there, yeah?”

Lexa’s face brightens. She’s always loved helping their father build things. “Yeah!”

**February 15, 2017**

**Twenty Four Years Old**

She collapses to the floor, her phone falling from her hand, the now free palm coming to rest against her mouth, her eyes squeezing shut like not being able to see the world will turn back time. An arm wraps around her shaking shoulders, and she leans into the touch of her girlfriend.

“She’s gone.”

Clarke only shushes her softly, rocking them back and forth.

“My mom, Clarke. She’s gone.”

“I know, baby. I know. She loved you so much.”

Lexa only cries harder, her hand coming away from her face to wrap around Clarke’s neck tightly. Clarke’s arms migrate to her waist, squeezing tightly as she holds her to her chest.

“You’ll get through this. I know you will. Remember when my dad died?” Lexa nods weakly. “You helped me through that, right? Now I’m going to help you. Cry all you want, okay? Get my shirt wet, make my hair a mess. I couldn’t care less. Just let it out, baby.”

The funeral is a week later. Clarke talks for her because her voice is shaking too much for her to be understood by all the people her mother’s love touched.

Even when she becomes a mother herself over three years later, she still cries about Lydia Woods in her wife’s arms at night.

**August 31, 2020**

**Twenty Eight Years Old**

The game starts. It’s a recorder version of the game from last week; they’re just getting to it because of the baby. Clarke’s eyes are trained on the television throughout the whole thing, but Lexa’s gaze never leaves the woman she loves’ face.

Thank God for all she’s been through, all she’s missed, because it led her here to this.


End file.
